Empty Hands
These hands once
Held water
Fingers gave pleasure
Calluses were
Proof of good work
These hands once
Cupped soft breasts
And fragile birds
The scars
Whisper stories
Best forgotten
These hands
Conveyed love
Once
Empty now
Helpless
* * *
Held water
Fingers gave pleasure
Calluses were
Proof of good work
These hands once
Cupped soft breasts
And fragile birds
The scars
Whisper stories
Best forgotten
These hands
Conveyed love
Once
Empty now
Helpless
* * *
posted by Jonas | 4/02/2011 03:46:00 AM
7 Comments:
You're on a wonderful roll, Jonas! I especially like hands -- as things and as subjects of poetry.
And those hands speak of strength and tenderness. Love this.
Very lovely. I collect pictures of hands. They are so telling.
Thank you.
Sometimes there is no work that can be done. Sometimes time is the only thing we hold and it is weighted with the minutes that march across our palms in aggitated worry. Helplessness is a priar patch and we tatter ourselves with it as if our own blood might heal, as if feeling it is actually doing SOMETHING! To wait, with no control, is the hardest task.
Wow...I stumbled upon your blog in search of a photo of hands. Not only is the photo awesome, but your poetry is beautiful!
May I use your photo to illustrate a future blog post?
Hello, Sandy. Thank you for the kind words. The photo is not mine, it's an image I discovered on the Internet. All respect and accoldes belong to the photographer who offered his/her vision.
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